Path
by Darev
Summary: When Myrta and Lucy make a discovery in the woods, they also find out how different they've become.


**Darev:** It's been a while since I did a Myrta fic. I don't care much for setting in this one. If you need a time and place, it's likely around season three since Myrta is able to transform, though don't expect it to follow the canon timeline. This is the first in a series of one shots. I plan to write one story a week so long as my muse allows it.

**Disclaimer**: Winx Club is created by Iginio Straffi and is produced by Rai Television.

* * *

**Path**

It's not often that Lucy hung out with Myrta anymore. The two witches went to different schools, had different friends, and studied two very different forms of magic. Myrta was a witch, but she wasn't evil. Neither was Lucy but don't let her hear you say that out loud. Witches prided themselves on being feared and promoting that stereotype was an essential part of their mystique.

Myrta used to go to Cloud Tower, the school for witches, with her best friend. She spent a whole year at that dreadful place; learning hexes, curses, and ways to piss off everyone around you. Dog-eat-dog does not begin to describe the social politics of Cloud Tower. Everyone was out for themselves. Friendships were a false facade used for the benefit of one party and nothing else. If said partner proved useless then a witch would cut her off like a gray hair. Theirs was a world of power struggles and betrayals. None, save the dark elves or the deep goblins, were as despicable and untrustworthy as the witches.

It was why had Myrta left Cloud Tower and chose to go to Alfea. The school for fairies seemed like an unlikely place for a witch to attend, and it wasn't as easy as some might think. Learning white magic was like trying to learn a completely new language. Myrta struggled her first year there and were not for the help of her friends, namely the Winx Club––and Flora especially––she'd have flunked out a long time ago. Myrta could not go home a failure. She had already strained her relationship with her family by attending Alfea. If she were to fail, her critics would never let her hear the end of it. Worst of all, her family, at least those that still talked to her, would disown her completely. To a witch, her coven was everything. A lone witch was a nobody, a _kan_, or filth. No member of her kind would have anything to do with her ever again.

Myrta may not be a witch in the typical sense, but neither was she a fairy. Not all the students at Alfea had accepted her like the Winx had. She was, afterall, their mortal enemy. Myrta would always be a witch in their eyes. She tried to be understanding. Myrta told herself that it would take time to find acceptance among these strange winged creatures her mother had told her stories about when she was a child. It's strange, but while the fairies were not wicked like her sistren back home, they possessed a cruelty all their own. The dark stares, the murmured insults, the endless derogatory comments made to her in a myriad of languages; she may as well have stayed at Cloud Tower with her own kind.

With her own kind. What did that even mean anymore?

"Hello?"

Blinking out of her reverie, Myrta looked up to see Lucy waving at her from atop a hill. The trail they'd chosen had spun around through the woods like a winding snake, giving them a safer, albeit longer, path toward their destination. "What's taking you so long?" Lucy, decked out in the same green khakis and beige shirt as Myrta, hoisted her backpack as it began to slump down her thin shoulders. The green-haired witch was as pale as the moon, and did not seem to gain weight no matter how much she ate.

"Coming, Lucy." Myrta rushed to catch up, hoisting her own pack as well. They'd decided to get together to find a few shrubs deep in the woods they would need to complete a few school projects. Myrta and Lucy remained in contact despite their separation. Given that they hadn't seen each other in a while it was a great excuse to get together. So they met up on a trail just outside of Alfea, given that Myrta may very well have been attacked if she met Lucy anywhere close to Cloud Tower, and went on their expedition.

The two friends caught up on old times, swapped some stories, and laughed. It was great being with Lucy again, Myrta thought. Her best friend since middle school, the two were almost never apart. While fate had seen them take different paths on this great trail known as life, Myrta was happy to share as many earth-bound paths as possible with her best friend.

Reaching the top, Myrta hunched over and gasped. Though the two girls were similar in physique and size, Lucy was more adept at "roughing it." She'd have to be if she wanted to remain at Cloud Tower, the redhead realized. "Being with fairies has made you soft," Lucy commented while Myrta caught her breath. She removed her canteen from her belt and began drinking water. It was a warm day with the sun high overhead. They still had a long way ahead of them to reach the grove where the plants they needed bloomed.

"I wish you'd stop saying bad things about fairies," Myrta said. "They're actually pretty cool."

"If you say so," Lucy said after wiping her mouth clean. She put the canteen away and started walking. "You're the one who's all winded."

Myrta rushed to keep up. "That's my hang-up. Don't blame Alfea for my weaknesses."

"Which seemed to have doubled since we last met, by the way."

Myrta's face twisted into a scowl.

"I call it like I see it."

So smug. Even more so. Sometimes Myrta had trouble understanding why Lucy wanted to be like every other witch. To be tough and self-reliant is one thing. To be mean for mean's sake is another. For all her bravado, she had yet to defeat a fairy in battle. Myrta used that to her advantage.

"Okay. Let me ask you this, Miss Fairies Make You Soft," she began, "When's the last time you've been in a fight. I mean a real fight?"

"This week?" Lucy asked.

"I mean when your life was in danger."

"I don't know if you remember, but I go to Cloud Tower. My life's always in danger."

"Witches talk tough, but they never really do anything that bad."

"What about the Trix?"

Myrta conceded that point. "Okay, they're the exception. But let's face it, Lucy, when's the last witch you heard of making a name for herself in the world?"

"If you're referring to those bimbo pixies you call friends..."

"The Winx Club."

"Whatever." They'd reached a small creek that could be circumvented with a single leap. Lucy went first and on the other side said, "Those so-called heroines usually get into more trouble than they stop. Especially that red-headed stepchild of theirs. No pun intended." Lucy scratched her head. "I mean, people love them and call them heroes, but one on one they're not all that."

"That's one thing I learned in Alfea," Myrta explained. She stood on the other side of the creek. "That true strength comes from working together."

Lucy scoffed.

"What?" Myrta huffed. She had her hands on her hips and was scowling across the creek.

"You should hear yourself."

"I do hear myself."

"I mean _listen_ to yourself. You're beginning to sound more like a pixie every day."

"Why do you hate them so much? The fairies, I mean?"

"Who says I hate them?"

"Everything. You do nothing but criticize them when they've done nothing to you. They even saved you once, remember?"

Lucy's face turned sour, into a blatant "don't remind me" kind of way. "And for that I'm supposed to be indebted to them forever?" Lucy became serious, almost as if she was getting ready for a fight. Myrta did not like where this was going but did not reciprocate her aggressive stance. "Look, Myrta. I don't hate the Winx girls or any of their fairy pals back at Alfea. I don't even hate you for leaving Cloud Tower and trying to be all good and everything. But..."

"I am good," Myrta interrupted.

"But!" Lucy held up a finger to shush her. "But what I do hate is people thinking they're the greatest thing since the Ghouls n' School book series. They're not all that, and even if they were, you don't have to protect them all the time."

"I just don't like you talking bad about my friends is all." Myrta hopped over to the other side, standing right before Lucy. "They're really nice once you get to know them."

"I don't want to get to know them. And I thought I was your friend."

"You are."

"Your best friend."

"We are best friends." Myrta put a hand on her shoulder. "Lucy, what's this really about?"

"If you need to ask that, then you don't know me as well as you think you do." Lucy brushed her hand off rather harshly and proceeded to continue into the woods. Trailing after her, Myrta began to digest her words to see if she could understand what was bothering her friend.

"Hey, Luce," she asked after catching up. "Are you...are you jealous of me and the Winx?"

"As if." Lucy didn't even look at her when she spoke.

But Myrta smiled. "You don't have to be jealous, Lucy. You will always be my main witch. No fairy, no person in the universe could ever replace you."

Lucy stopped so abruptly that Myrta had taken two full steps before she realized it. Turning back, she found her friend's large eyes boring into hers. "Then why did you switch schools?"

"Cloud Tower wasn't the place for me. You know that."

"You could have tried harder."

"I'm not a witch, Lucy. At least not in spirit."

"So you are a fairy."

"No."

"Then what are you?"

After thinking it over, Myrta shook her head. "I haven't figured that out yet."

"Then call me when you do." She brushed past Myrta. "Let's go. We can't be out here all day." Looking over her shoulder, Lucy added, "Some of us have work to do."

Lucy was really mad about something, Myrta knew, and she had a bad habit of keeping it all bottled up even when they were kids. As her friend, Myrta knew when to keep her mouth shut and let her fume. Lucy would tell her everything eventually. That's what BFFs did, they shared secrets. Myrta just held her tongue and followed Lucy at a respectable distance, making sure to be nearby when Lucy finally decided to tell her what was wrong.

Half an hour passed. They'd decided to take a break by an overturned tree that was conveniently close to the path. The girls had packed a lunch and were eating in silence. Myrta chewed thoroughly, pretending to savor her sandwich, when she was really biding her time. The longer they stayed in one place, the better the chances of Lucy talking to her. She just hoped it was soon because the sandwich really wasn't that good. She was a terrible cook.

A gentle breeze settled on their little campsite. Myrta found the scenery to be breathtaking. The forest was alive with the sounds of summer. Magix was beautiful this time of year, a stark difference from the gloomy realm she and Lucy called home. There was hardly any sunshine there. The planet was barren, barely any flowers; the perfect breeding ground for witches. Myrta hated it. She wished she could live on Magix. Maybe when she was old enough she'll move out of her family home and find a part-time job at Alfea until she saved enough to buy her own apartment.

One look at Lucy made her question her line of thinking. It's bad enough she left Cloud Tower. Now she was thinking about leaving her home. If that happened, Myrta and Lucy would never see each other as often as they did now; which wasn't much. That's when it hit her. Myrta almost choked when the realization hit. Lucy felt that Myrta abandoned her when she left Cloud Tower. They were best friends, their only friends in the whole school. Myrta had the Winx but Lucy had no one. She was basically alone, easy prey for the other witches.

And now she was planning on abandoning her again...for good this time.

"Lucy, I," Myrta started to say when she heard a faint sound on the wind. The breeze carried it right to their campsite.

"You what?" Lucy looked up from her sandwich. Judging by the look on her face, she was an even worse cook than Myrta.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Listen." Myrta took her own advice. It sounded like an animal that wasn't far off. "It sounds like...pain."

Lucy's eyes widened. "I hear it too." She got up from the log and Myrta did likewise. "Where's it coming from?" The green-haired witch asked.

"Over there!" Dropping her sandwich, Myrta hopped over the downed tree and into the tall grass. Lucy followed, her longer legs keeping stride with Myrta. The girls kept following the sound, letting the wind lead them to its source, their knees and legs causing a ruckus as they traversed the waist-high green grass. It wasn't long before they found what they were looking for.

It became hard to breathe.

"Myrta...is that a...?"

"It's a unicorn!" The redhead blurted out. Lying on its side, its snow-white coat stained with dirt and muck in the middle of the field, was a golden-horned unicorn. The beast was huge, at least twice the size of a pure-bred steed and many times that in weight. Its powerful legs were heavier than either girl and larger than their waists. They could easily have crushed them if the unicorn were standing up straight, which would be an imposing sight given the magnificence of the creature.

They continued to gawk at the unicorn until it turned its massive head their way. Jeweled eyes the color of sapphire narrowed at the two witches. It neighed angrily and kicked out its front leg as if to bat them away. Even from this distance they could feel the _whoosh_ as the air current from the creature's powerful leg slapped them in the face. The two girls instinctively jumped back. "That thing's rabid!" Lucy cried.

Myrta noticed how the unicorn failed to get much of its upper body off the ground. It hardly seemed able to raise its head. "I think it's afraid of us."

"Afraid? Of us?" Lucy could hardly believe it. "That thing?"

"It's a boy," Myrta said, noticing the unicorn's tuft of beard at the end of its snout for the first time. "See the hair."

Her fear momentarily forgotten, Lucy went closer. "It's a freakin' unicorn!"

The statement's impact wasn't lost on Myrta. Unicorns were a rare sight even in the realm of magic. They were the purest of creatures, highly intelligent, and a manifestation of all that was good in the world. It was rare to see one and the last recorded sighting was well over two-hundred years ago. It was an event, nay, a privilege, no, an _honor_ to see a unicorn in one's lifetime.

"I wonder what's wrong with it." Myrta took a step closer. The unicorn gazed into her eyes. A moment of truth passed between them and to her surprise, and that of Lucy's, the unicorn allowed her to approach closer.

"Careful, Myrta."

"He doesn't mean us harm," Myrta said. "He was just spooked because we're witches." Within reach of the animal's powerful hooves, Myrta reached a hand out tentatively. She'd always fantasized about unicorns as a girl. To be able to see one, to touch it, would be one of the hallmarks of her life. "See? We're friends," she told the beautiful animal. Myrta's hand was a hair's breath away from the unicorn's muscled neck. With a deep breath, she dared to touch it. The neck was warm to the touch and filled Myrta with the feeling of life, the breath of nature itself.

She also felt something else: pain.

"It's hurt." Myrta looked it over. The unicorn allowed her to examine him and she took her time until she spotted the source. One of the magnificent creature's back legs was bleeding. White puss and blood merged with a strange black liquid that originated from a black dart protruding from the muscled calf. "This must be the problem." Myrta moved toward the injury. Carefully she reached out to touch the dart. The unicorn groaned.

"Easy boy. I'm here to help." Myrta grabbed hold of the dart and pulled it out. The beast grunted but held still. This human was doing him a favor. Myrta stepped back to examine the dart. "Strange. I've never seen this kind of weapon before."

"Let me see that." Lucy waited for Myrta to walk back and hand her the dart. After close scrutiny, the CT student exclaimed, "I know this weapon! It's used by poachers to poison their prey. That way they can just kill it without worrying about it fighting back."

Myrta gasped. "That's horrible."

"Poachers usually are." Lucy handed back the dart as if it didn't matter anymore. "But what are the chances poachers would happen to find a unicorn outside of its realm? They're supposed to be stealthy and smart enough not to be captured."

The unicorn growled at Lucy.

"I call it like I see it." She backed up.

"We have to help him," Myrta said without a second thought. She looked around. "Those poachers could still be looking for him. We can't let them find him like this." Turning to Lucy she said, "We should call for help."

"I didn't bring my cell phone."

"But I did." Myrta put her pack down and began to look through it. She removed her cellular and stood up. "Darn it! No bars." She held it up. "I can't get a signal here."

"The forest is magical. Maybe that somehow interferes with the connection."

"Oh no." Looking back at the unicorn, Myrta teared up. "What are we supposed to do? He needs help badly."

"I think I know," Lucy said and Myrta turned back to her. "One of us should stay here while the other goes back for help."

"But what if the poachers come by? One of us would have to face them all alone."

"Which is why I'm staying. I'm a good fighter. My powers are more attack-based than yours. Besides, I know a few spells that will shield us from detection. They'll keep us safe until you get back."

But Myrta was shaking her head. "I should stay."

"Have you forgotten that we're closer to Alfea than Cloud Tower? If I strolled in there telling the fairies I found a unicorn, they'll look at me as if I were crazy. Or lying. Or both. You know no one will take me seriously." Lucy placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "But you, Myrta, you're one of them now. They trust you. It has to be you."

"But it's so far."

"You'll make it. You can make it to Alfea in half the time if you fly back. I'll be right here keeping watch."

"Are you sure?"

"Myrta...it's me." Lucy smiled at her for the first time that day. "You know you can trust me."

Sharing a brief silence, Myrta realized that she was right. This was Lucy. Her BFF. She knew she could trust her with anything. Now it was her turn to smile. "Thank you, Lucy." She stepped back to give herself some room. "Now watch this." Placing her bag on the grass, Myrta stretched out her arms and transformed right before her friend's eyes. Seeing Myrta for the first time, as a fairy instead of a witch, the look Lucy gave her was a mix of astonishment and resignation. This was who she was now.

"Well?" Myrta posed in her wings.

"What can I say?" Lucy sighed. "It's you."

"But I'll always be me, Lucy." Myrta went over to give her a hug. Then she went back to the unicorn. Myrta knelt beside his head, gently stroking his mane. The unicorn was very weak. His eyes began to droop and he could not even acknowledge her. Still, Myrta knew that he knew she was there and that she was going to help him. "Don't worry. I will be back with help." She spared a glance at Lucy. "You'll be safe so long as my friend's around." She stood up, blurry-eyed from seeing such a pure animal in his present state. Before the tears came on full, Myrta spread her wings and took to the sky. She glanced back once more at the field where her best friend and the unicorn lay, then turned and made all haste toward Alfea.

* * *

When Myrta finally made it to Alfea, she was gasping for breath. Those students outside looked up to see one of their own falling out of the sky. She collapsed on the quad, reverting to her khakis as her wings vanished. Many fairies rushed to her aid only to find not one of their own, but a witch––a red-haired witch. This caused many of them to turn away as if it did not matter how bad a shape Myrta was. She wasn't one of them. She was the outsider. She did not walk the path of light.

At that moment, Myrta could not have cared less. "Help!" She pleaded, but not for her sake, for those she left behind. "Forest...field...unicorn...injured. Need...help." At least two fairies were kind enough to help her to her feet. More were rushing in.

"Myrta!" Bloom shouted when she saw the state her friend was in. Bloom gratefully took the role of crutch away from the fairies that helped her up. She thanked them and turned to Myrta. "What happened to you?"

"Unicorn..." Myrta found it hard to speak. So winded was she. "Have to...get help."

"Calm down. Can somebody get her some water?" She guided Myrta to a bench and sat her down. It wasn't long before the other Winx girls arrived. Aisha was the one who brought her a glass of water, which Myrta gulped down ravenously. When her second wind kicked in Myrta relayed all the information she could in one breath. Everyone motioned for her to settle down and speak again, slowly. By this time, Miss Faragonda had arrived on the scene and was concerned at seeing the shape her student was in.

"Tell me what happened, dear."

Myrta spoke, slowly this time, but with urgency. When she was finished, all the girls turned to Miss Faragonda. "A poisoned dart you say?"

"Yeah." Reaching into her pocket, Myrta produced the small projectile. "Here it is."

Faragonda took the dart and studied it. Her eyes narrowed. "This is no poacher's weapon."

"What?" They asked in unison.

"There isn't a poacher alive that could have caught a unicorn off guard. They're too clever."

"Lucy said the same thing."

"Lucy?" Faragonda looked at her.

"I left her with the unicorn. She said she'd protect it while I went to get help."

"Oh dear." A dark shadow overcame Faragonda's features.

"What's wrong, Miss F?" Bloom asked.

"I'm afraid that the unicorn is far from alright, my dear Myrta."

"What do you mean?" Concern griped her voice.

Faragonda raised the dart. "This dart is a creation of magic...dark magic. More specifically, witch magic. I even recognize its design." Faragonda held it up for all to see. "It's very old but still effective. I haven't seen it in use since I was a student at Alfea. Elphaba, that's Professor Griffin to the rest of you, showed it to me when we worked together to hunt down a rogue dragon. This is called a shadow dart. It homes in on a specific target and does not let up until it finds it. Someone no doubt was looking for this unicorn. Shadow darts are quiet, almost impossible to see, let alone detect. They're perfect for assassination." She lowered the dart. "Or hunting."

"You mean to tell me that this was Cloud Tower's doing?"

"Indeed."

"But Lucy said,"

"Lucy knew all along. She lied to you, Myrta."

"No. She wouldn't. Lucy's my friend."

"And that's why it was so easy to lie to you."

Myrta was speechless. She felt someone place a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Flora's sympathetic face. "I'm sorry, Myrta."

"No." She pulled away. "I refuse to believe it. Lucy would not do that to me. We're friends. We're best friends."

"Myrta," Faragonda tried.

"She wouldn't lie to me!" Her strength returning, Myrta transformed again. The power surge was such that every fairy was forced to step back. Myrta took off like a rocket, heading straight for where she'd left the defenseless unicorn. The Winx Club transformed and went after her. Miss Faragonda could only watch in sadness. She was once betrayed by someone she called friend long ago. How Myrta would deal with the betrayal would be a true test of her strength.

* * *

Even the Winx had trouble keeping up with Myrta as she sped over the forest. She did not hear their words. So angry was she that Myrta almost flew right past the spot where she'd left Lucy. She landed; the Winx right behind her. Her heart sank. The unicorn was dead. Not only that, but the steed's golden horn was gone as well, apparently removed from the very root of the head. Nothing but a stump remained, its glamour lost, its light stolen. The unicorn remained perfectly still as Myrta approached it. She fell to her knees, crying.

"I told him he would be safe," she began. "I told him he'd be safe with my friend around. Why Lucy? Why?" Tears flowed freely now. Myrta hugged her shoulders and began to sob uncontrollably. Her friends tried to comfort her and even they were despaired after seeing the corpse of such a wonderful animal. This was truly a crime against nature, against life itself.

"Why Lucy?" Myrta continued her mantra. She could not let this go unanswered. She would confront her former BFF. She would not let this go. She could not. Betrayal demanded answers.

* * *

Cloud Tower was just as Myrta remembered it; bleak, gloomy, ugly, and cold. The witches were just as she remembered, too. Such despicable things, Myrta thought. She hated them...she hated them all. But she hated one more than most.

Having been given permission by Miss Griffin to visit the school thanks to Miss Faragonda, Myrta practically stormed through the darkened halls. Several witches noticed her as she walked by. They snickered and pointed fingers, offering their usual quips about what a poor excuse for a witch she'd been. Myrta wanted to blast everyone of them, but Miss F allowed her to go only if she promised to refrain from violence. She reminded Myrta that it was not the way of fairies to take revenge no matter what the crime.

But Myrta wasn't a fairy, was she?

Neither was she a witch.

The next few moments would define her. Myrta strode up to the room she knew was Lucy's and pounded on the door, loudly. It took a few moments for the door to open. There, dressed in her usual black skirt with stockings and high boots, wearing a sleeveless white t-shirt, was Lucy. The two exchanged hard looks before Lucy opened her mouth. "I was wondering when you'd..."

"Why?" Myrta cut her off. "Why did you do it?"

"Don't be stupid, Myrta." Lucy spat. She crossed her arms in the doorway. "You know how many powerful potions can be concocted from the horn of a unicorn? Scores. Try hundreds. Having that horn would put me weeks ahead of the curb. I need every advantage I can get here, Myrta."

"Is that why you lied to me?" Myrta asked. "Is that why you killed the unicorn?"

"That unicorn was already dead," Lucy argued.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Myrta took step forward, forcing Lucy to get ready just in case she did something stupid. "You sent the shadow dart."

"No." The admission put Myrta a step back. "Some other witches were using the dart to catch a magical creature. A nymph, I think. It was illegal, but since when do witches follow rules? I just happened to be there when we found the unicorn. It was too good an opportunity to pass up." Lucy held up her fists. "Strength is all that matters in CT, Myrta. That horn has made me stronger. I needed it."

"So you killed the unicorn."

"It was already dead!" Lucy exclaimed. Seeing the look on Myrta's face stole her fire for a moment. The witch settled down, sighing. "I-I put it out of its misery, yes. It was a mercy."

"Only a witch would consider murder a mercy."

"What do you want from me?" Lucy cried. "That's just the way it is, alright?"

"Nothing's alright, Lucy. Nothing about this whole damned situation is right! You killed the unicorn and lied to me so you could get a few potions."

"A few?"

"Shut up!" Myrta stepped up to her, pointing a finger. "You're a monster."

"I'm a witch!" Lucy screamed. "You used to understand what that meant."

"I don't understand anything about you anymore, Lucy. I don't even know you." Despite her best attempts, Myrta could not hold back the tears. "Don't you see? You've become the very thing you hated."

"Hated?"

"You used to hate all those girls who picked on you back in grade school. You hated how they used their powers to pick on those weaker than themselves. You and I made a pact that we would never become like them. We swore we would be better than that. Then we got accepted to Cloud Tower and you changed. You didn't want to be a different kind of witch. You just wanted to be a witch. You wanted to be like the Trix; cold, heartless, mean, and cruel." Myrta stepped back. "You've changed, Lucy."

"I've changed?" She asked incredulously. "What about you? You think you're better than me because you're a fairy?"

Myrta said nothing.

"You're a witch, Myrta. You'll always be a witch. Stop acting like you're anything different."

"I am different."

"No you're not! You're just like the rest of us."

"No. I'm not." Myrta wiped the tears from her eyes. "The blood of covens may run through my veins, but I am not a witch. There was a time, long ago, when I would have done anything to be accepted as one, but now I know I made the right choice. There is nothing good about what you did or what you plan to be, Lucy. If this is the path you've chosen, then I won't stop you. But it is not my path. From this point on, we walk our own ways."

"So you're leaving me?" The pain in Lucy's face was apparent. She was being torn up inside by Myrta's words. The redhead knew she was doing more damage to her by admitting her feelings than she ever could with attack spells. Words were more powerful than any magic. "Again?"

"I didn't leave you last time. I only chose a different way of life. That's not the case anymore." Myrta turned around. "Goodbye, Lucy." The finality in that statement was so strong that it stole all breath from Myrta's throat. This was it, she realized. They would never see each other again. Myrta held back the next wave of tears. The first ones were tears of anger. These were ones of sorrow. But she would not give Lucy the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She would hold it, she would be strong. She would never be weak like Lucy.

Myrta began to walk away but felt her friend's, her former friend's, eyes boring in on her as she shouted. "Go on! Get lost! Who needs you, you fairy wannabe? You're nothing, you hear me? You're nothing! You were born a failure and you'll always be one. What kind of witch can't control her own powers? You're pathetic. So run back to your fairy school and your pixie pals. You'll never be one of them, Myrta! They'll never accept you. You'll never find acceptance anywhere! You're alone, Myrta. You're completely alone!"

But Myrta wasn't listening. She was ready to put this place and Lucy behind her forever. She understood now that some people were just slaves to their heritage. They allowed it to define who and what they were.

Myrta wasn't like that. Lucy was right about one thing, though. Try as she might, she would never be a fairy. But she wasn't a witch either.

So be it, Myrta thought as she traversed the gauntlet of jeers and glares on her way out the door. She walked out of Cloud Tower with her head held high. She would walk her own path and damn anyone who thought to define who she was.


End file.
